


Everyday say to yourself (this future is for me)

by Minimosca



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Also Tony has panick attack and anxiety issues and stuff like that, Gen, I'm gonna stop there, I'm trying the ot3 thing for the first time here it may be awkward, Loki is nice, M/M, No I swear it's not going to be depressing, Star Spangled Exchange, Steve and Bucky feels but not that much, Stony feels-but-not-that-much too, Time Travel!AU, Watch out for violence (I mean battle nothing awful) and slight mention of disordered eating, Well as nice as he can become, Well not yet - Freeform, at least he helps Tony, long tags are long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-07 00:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1878210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minimosca/pseuds/Minimosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Tony and Steve are thrown back into the 40's because dumb HYDRA agents don't know when they lost the game.<br/>Aventures ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (You could be) Something more than expected

**Author's Note:**

> Hi !
> 
> Here is my entry for the StarspangledBanner Exchange and gift for Eegie (or at least the beggining).  
> This first chapter is more here to settle things than anything else, sooooo... sorry for the lack of actual action. It only really starts in the second chapter.
> 
> Thank you to Meylora for beta reading me at crazy hours instead of sleeping !  
> Thank you to my second beta, this is the final edit of this chapter, yaaaay \o/ 
> 
> As for the trigger warnings, watch out for mention of disordered eating (I don't believe HYDRA nourrished Bucky with good food, but either injected him what was necessary or gave him old canned food because they didn't care, and I don't believe he magically adapts to his new human being state, specially not with the weight of the guilt and whatever must gnaw at him at night), watch out for mention of PTSD, homophobia, anxiety related problems (like panick attacks, nothing too heavy) and violence since there is some fighting planned. 
> 
> Also this takes place in a universe where TDW didn’t happen yet, but TWS did, and Loki is not locked in Asgard but on earth. Bucky is also living with the Avengers and slowly recovering. Mh. I have no logical explanation, just consider this like an AU.  
> Also SHIELD is down but not totally down like some stuff are still functionals and Fury takes decisions from whatever dark corner he hides in. And Coulson is alive because I said so.
> 
> I'm done rambling

This take place in a universe where tdw didn’t happen yet, but tws did, and Loki is not locked in Asgard but on earth and Bucky is also living with the Avengers and slowly recovering. Mh. I have no logical explanation, just consider this like an au.

Also SHIELD is down but like not totally down like some stuff are still functionals and Fury takes decisions from whatever dark corner he's hidden in and coulson is alive be i said so

 

 

 

Tony rolls his eyes. The man in front of him keeps the stubborn look on his face.

 

“Come on.”

 

“Absolutely no way Stark.”

 

“I’m going to shove ice-cream in your hands and you won’t be able to control your transformation and it will be much, much worse.”

 

“I don’t turn each time I’m _cold_. I’m going to shove my daggers through your throat and you won’t be able to control your slow death, you will choke on your own blood and…”

 

Tony shortly cut the graphic description of his death, waving a wrench he picked from the floor, convinced the boring silence he met until there was safer than starting an actual conversation with the god.

 

“Jesus fine, I was kidding Loki, did no one teach you humor in your golden royal youth?”

 

Loki cast him a very unimpressed look, before stating flatly. “I am the god of Mischief—“

 

“Was.”

 

Ignoring him he continues. “Pranking people is what I do. Well, half of the time it ends in bloodbath but what can I do ? People just don’t appreciate my gifts.”

 

“Like invading earth? Your idea of a gift is terrible.”

 

“ Things would be easier if I was your king.”

 

Silence falls again as Loki writes something in one of the many very old books he keeps stocking in the workshop. Tony glances up at the big structure and, hey, it starts to look like a real thing now.

It would look better with a bit of red on it, but Loki is firmly opposed to the idea, and since he can’t do the job without his help, they settled for a neutral silver color. His eyes trace the big square cage (originally round, but it reminded too much the god of the shield’s prison) surrounded by two metallic arcs crossing each other above it and a big console in front of the installation, the most important part, still not finished, still spilling wires like a preposterous and colorful parody of guts on the floor.

 

“Your turn Mr Freeze.”

 

The book snaps shut in an angry _clac_ and Loki lightly touches his shoulder as he passes by, making him jump as his arm feels electrified at first and then numb, kind of cold and just plain uncomfortable. He keeps his mouth shut, knowing he deserves it. Loki has lost most of his powers, bond by the Allfather himself, but knows how to use their reminiscence just perfectly to defend himself and make Tony Stark suffer when he earned it. Nothing impressive, but still annoying.

The genius doesn’t really understand how the god can have some sort of magic left, and all the babbling Loki had done about the roots of most of the spells he has learnt as a child being anchored so deeply in him nothing could erase them completely didn’t really convinced him; but the facts are there. Loki has just enough power to keep his flesh pale (and THAT is a shame because Tony REALLY wants to see him turning blue, and maybe he wasn’t kidding about the ice cream after all) and help with his tinkering.

 

Actually it is more than tinkering. It is the craziest project he has started in his entire life, and he is glad he has the God of Mischiefs to assist him because it’s already incredibly complicated and difficult with the help of his (considerably weakened) magic. It would have been impossible without him. And that’s why he pleaded in his favor for Fury to allow him out of his cell.

Him and Bruce, because Bruce, behind his calm and measured look, is just as enthusiastic when it comes to impossible-crazy-science-projects.

 

They had to harass the SHIELD director for nearly a month and make a lot of concessions (like dumb security protocols Bruce has agreed to, and cameras in his tower as long as they stayed away from his workshop and secret files and projects, which was just dumb really since him AND Loki spent most of their time in said workshop), but eventually Thor’s brother had been sent to live with the Avengers, to the fierce joy of the God of Thunder.

The rest of the team, minus Bucky who doesn’t really set his opinion on this, had greeted the news with mostly anger and shouting. Stuff had been thrown away and doors had been slammed and some walls and furniture had needed minor repairs and everybody had entirely stopped talking to Tony for a whole week… but boy it was worth it.

 

Well, he tries to not think about how he felt very bad and very in love with his old friend the scotch bottle when Steve had barely glanced at him for _eight days_ , ice in his eyes and his mouth turned into a disappointed scold.

But it is over now, since a year or so, and it had been six months already since he started to work on a _fucking time machine_.

Yeah.

What a time to be alive.

 

It is far from finished, but with Bruce’s help and Loki’s magic they make progress, tiny, tiny inches of progress every day, figuring out how to make proper time travel work. Without, you know, breaking the human body down into tiny cell pieces and dying an awful death.

Actually it would take way less time if Loki had his magic restored, but no one trusted him enough for that, and Tony can’t blame them. Loki is like a wolf with grinded claws and teeth; blunt and harmless for now, but very likely to jump at everyone’s throat as soon as he recovers his weapon of choice.

Actually his help was one of the conditions for his freedom.

Being a good boy, helping the Avengers, not killing anyone, and maybe, just maybe, one day if he behaved, he would be a god again.

 

 

Tony watches, eyes narrowing just slightly as Loki put a hand on the first metal arc and shuts his eyes, muttering things under his breath. The genius has learned it’s not really spells, but the habit of putting words on something as tenuous and flimsy as his residual magic makes it more malleable, easier to reach for. He doesn’t know what Loki is exactly doing, he doesn’t know how it works, he’d ask multiple times and he will ask again, not giving up, but the whole concept is so complicated it makes his head hurts when he tries to understand. And Loki always smiles with this sharp, vainglorious smile, his eyes gleaming dangerously when he acknowledges his superiority over the human.

 

His thoughts drift a little as he lets Loki take care of his part of the deal, because if he is better and not so worrying anymore, they now have to take care of another problem entirely.

Bucky Barnes who had arrived three months prior.

Also a SHIELD’s prisoner before, although his cell looked more like a simple studio and less like a prison.

 

While everyone understood he was a victim of HYDRA, people did not trust him, which was understandable, and wanted to make sure he was not a threat for Steve Rogers or any of the Avengers. So they kept him locked, in this grotesque mockup of a normal life at one of the last still standing up SHIELD’s quarter.

Tony had witnessed Steve’s face gettng darker every day, and his eyes took that hurt, incredulous look when Natasha clearly ranged herself at Fury’s side.

 

“You don’t know what it’s like to have someone playing with the inside of you head” she had said, with a stern voice.

 

“I know Bucky is _there_ ” had answered the blonde with an angry edge to his voice, “I know he recognizes me, I know he doesn’t want to hurt people. The Winter Soldier has lost his grasp on him, he is back. Why does nobody understand that? _He is back_. Just _look_ at him.”

 

But the red head just had shook her head, almost imperceptibly, with this look on her face Tony could have sworn was something sad, but didn’t gather the courage to watch long enough to put words on it.

 

Tony had seen Steve becoming colder, more distant with him, with the team, with anything SHIELD related, like he blamed them all for what happened to his friend, and he hadn’t be able to not become angry in response. Because it was just like the first times, like he had been thrown back in time when the team just assembled and Cap and Iron Man were constantly fighting, all angry tones and scornful looks. He had been under the impression Steve slipped away from him, after so much time spent to tame him, slowly, learning to adapt his own selfish and winging personality to Steve’s open and honest one. Whole and shining so bright, so dangerous because so painfully straightforward.

Learning to be careful with his words, learning to sometimes stop being the pushy asshole he was and making room for Steve, just as Steve had learned to compose with his reckless, witty and sharp self over the months.

He has had the feeling he was losing everything he built in the span of a few days, he has panicked and a scared Tony Stark was a hurtful Tony Stark.

 

They had fought more than ever during this period, without caring about the repercussions on the team.

Well, Tony hadn’t cared. Stubborn and selfish and blinded by a fear he has refused to feel.

Steve, being Steve, had carried the weight of the guilt in addition of his worries for Bucky. And seeing his gaze becoming heavier and heavier each day with remorse and anger had finally decided Tony to make peace and try to find solutions. Use his genius brain again.

Or he had intended to, but not quite succeeded at first, his smart mouth talking before his brain could catch on what wounding word he has said, pushed by the tension ever present between them. Things had become even worse to be honest. So much so that they had been threatened to be taken off duty, the Avengers unable to function as a team when two members of the pack constantly tried to chew each other’s legs.

The others had started to avoid them as much as they could, living together, and Bruce even had tried to lecture Tony about it. Bruce who never puts his nose in other’s personal business.

 

One night, they finally had snapped, both of them, and came to blows.

It was late, after a particularly annoying mission, involving Peter Parker and his problematic friends and foes (seriously, this kid was good to turn his allies into enemies and, you know, _put the whole city in danger because oh no Harry couldn’t do tha… oh wait he did and also he’s turning green and my girlfriend is dead)_. To their credit both had been in a terrible mood, Steve not having checked on Bucky in three days because he was lacking time and Tony just… being Tony.

He didn’t remember how it started, only that after a while their flare went too far and Steve was angrily asking him to suit up like they were making another reenactment of their first meeting. He hadn’t bothered putting on his armor. He was done with putting things between Steve and him.

His right fist has landed on the face of America’s first wonder and they had crumpled on the floor, a mess of tensed limbs, loud growls and ire, trying to hit each other with as much precision as children.

 

So much for the trained super heroes.

 

But it felt _good_.

 

Good to touch Steve, to press his hands on his forearms to stop his blows, good to see the ice had melted in his eyes to let the anger ablaze them, so fierce and hating and warm and alive. Good to shout at him without anyone around, letting the words fall from his mouth without filter, without listening to what he was saying, without _trying_ , good to feel like the wall between them had crumbled somewhere between their beatings.

He only remembered saying “I really hate you Rogers”, then Steve narrowing his eyes and crushing his mouth with his own like _that_ was the logical thing to follow a hate statement.

 

He had freezed at first, but that hadn’t stopped the blonde from putting as much passion and anger in the kiss as he had when hitting him, and finally he had stop asking himself what was happening and why it was happening and why it felt so _damn good_ , like he was living again suddenly, like Steve was giving him air instead of sucking it out if him, with his lips and teeth. He had just opened his mouth to feel more, more of whatever Steve had to give him, his hands leaving his arms to grip the short blond hair, pulling until Steve made _noises_.

And that didn’t stop Tony either, only made his grip firmer and his tongue more desperate to taste more than Steve’s lips and his chest pushing against the weight of the body above him, pinned to the floor but fighting.

After few seconds of madness where his senses blinded him, he had felt his arms forced down by strong hands, so strong they could have hurt him badly had he resisted too much and his whole body shivered in response.

So, super human strength was a new kink. Good to know.

 

“You can’t just…” His voice came out a bit hoarse and he trailed off, clearing his throat before staring into the blue eyes where the anger had vanished, replaced by a strange calm.

Everything screamed “I’m in control” in Steve’s posture, and Tony had felt his own muscles relax a little in answer.

 

“I really…”

 

“…hate you. I know. Shut the hell up Stark.”

 

Curiously Tony had, indeed, shut the hell up, not cursing him for giving him half a kiss, not trying to fight, not reaching into that terrifying void of questions at the back of his mind, not asking. And Steve had leaned in to kiss him again, the gentleness of his mouth being denied by the way his hands held Tony’s wrists above his head, unnecessarily strong and squeezing. He had pressed his lips against Tony’s, soft and too nice, and not breaching their opening, never giving him a full kiss. Just those long, gentle pecks for what felt like ages, heating a low fire in his belly.

 

And then out of nowhere, “I am sorry.”

 

He didn’t look at him, lips brushing against his cheek as he spoke, eyes shut. Tony blinked, not sure for what he was apologizing. The kisses, the fights, the everything?

 

“I… I need to do something about Bucky. It eats me up, knowing he is a prisoner, but I shouldn’t transfer this on you.”

 

Oh right, not the kisses apparently. That was a good thing.

Tony has raised both eyebrows.

 

“You know, talking about your childhood crush when you kiss _me_ is not something socially acceptable. I can’t accept this.”

 

“Yeah, ‘socially acceptable’, that’s rich from you.” Came the answer, Steve’s voice a little less serious. “I am _your_ childhood crush. And I’m sure he would look up to you once he’s better, he always had this weird admiration for Howard.”

 

“That’s low Rogers, rule number one we do not talk about my childhood. Especially not when it puts you on a superior position.”

 

“ ’Superior position’? I don’t think I need to _talk_ about that.”

 

Steve smiled, a genuine, amused smile, still above him, still talking few inches from his face, still holding his arms to the floor, and wow the whole _Captain America is a pure virgin_ deal was fucking bullshit.

 

“ Stop repeating everything I say, my childhood is dying and it’s all your fault.” Vainly argued Tony. “Are we not talking about what’s happening here? And did you just ask for a threesome? Did Captain America just…”

 

“Shut up, yuck.”

 

And there was affection in Steve’s voice, or maybe it was the rush of blood going south letting Tony’s head empty and making him hallucinate things.

Steve got up right after that, wishing him _goodnight_ before exiting the room, leaving a very disturbed and aroused Tony by himself on the floor.

 

“ What the fuck ?” had been his only answer, because really, was this a fucking joke ?

 

 

Turned out it was not.

Things eased up between them; their relation coming back to what is was before the Winter Soldier appeared (except for the nervous laughing and shifty looks from Tony from time to time, and oh my god, why was he behaving like a middle school girl and not the grown up experienced man he was? Having collected figures and posters of Captain America when he was younger didn’t excuse this. At all.), but no one said anything about it, Tony being too nervous for some reasons, and Steve behaving like the situation was perfectly normal.

The genius had even started to ask himself if Captain America had kissed a lot of people on the floor, if that was a normal thing and if he had missed something because he spent way too much time tinkering on crazy machines in his workshop.

But life continued, unsettling and disruptive.

 

Shortly after that Tony had started to visit James Buchanan Barnes with his friend, at first once every week, and then more often, until he came everyday with Steve, catching up with the ex-HYDRA agent, like he liked hearing about him.

And maybe he did.

 

Finally, after months of improvement, of proofs Steve’s friend wasn’t just a brainwashed killer, and daily polite visits that turned into hours of small talk and attachment, Steve had obtained permission for him.

Fury, on the video feed, had made his point very clear that if any incident happened, Bucky would immediately be taken back into the SHIELD facility and that they had to keep him under control. If not officially, he was still in charge of things and had full powers over the ex-assassin.

 

Bucky himself wasn’t sure about the decision, considering himself as a threat more than anything, but Steve’s faithful babble and eyes shining too bright had him agreeing in two hours of discussion where Tony had set out all the amazing security protocols his tower was equipped with, only forgetting to mention the SHIELD’s cameras he had to support because of Loki’s presence.

 

Loki who was presently talking to him.

 

He jerks away from his thoughts and blinks.

 

“ What ?”

 

The god looks at him a little funny before asking again.

 

“I will need the access to protocol X-23 CQK22. What are you day dreaming about Stark ?”

 

“JARVIS, give him what he wants.”

 

“Not answering the question. Does it have anything to do with love”, his tone is slightly amused and Tony frowns because of course not, it doesn’t.

 

“When did I give you the impression to be in love exactly? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure you mixed signals here big guy.”

 

“Oh I don’t know… every time you think Steve Rogers doesn’t see you maybe. “

“See previous answer, mixed signals. I would have expected you to take on human behaviors more quickly, being clever enough to trick everyone up there. “

 

But Loki only smirks and runs his delicate fingers on the unfinished time machine’s screen, looking for results of his magic.

 

The discreet bip of a digicod is heard and Tony turns his head to see Captain America entering the workshop in sneakers, a half buttoned shirt and light _skinny_ jeans. God bless the 21st century.

His eyes trace the lines of his body for a second before he greets him.

 

“I can’t believe there was a time when all you wore was strict buttons up, slacks, gel in your hair and that pretty mouth turned upside down. Times change. Kids grow so fast.”

 

Steve runs a guilty hand in his uncombed hair and gives a nod to Loki before answering him.

 

“It’s been 42 hours since you last ate Tony.”

 

“I have food down here, what do you think? I’m not starving in the name of science.”

 

“Candy bars are not food.” Steve raises a hand before Tony can open his mouth. “Nor are green milkshakes.”

 

“Actually yes, it is. Do you ever turn on the T.V ?”

 

“Come on, Bruce cooked, you don’t want to miss that.”

 

Tony glances at the time machine, then at Loki who is still smirking and rolls his eyes.

 

“Yeah okay, I’m tired of having crazy fallen gods for only company. You’re done here Loki ?”

 

The god nods.

“I appreciate Doctor Banner’s cooking and I didn’t have anything decent to eat since we went here, I am willing to check my results later.”

 

“Or you could, you know, say ‘yes’ like a normal person.”

 

“I am not a normal person.”

 

“Whatever, JARVIS, save and backup everything.” Tony puts his tool down, and starts to walk toward the exit where his friend stands, his hands flying around him while he talks as usual.

 

“Is your childhood crush is joining us by the way?” He adds, “Because I’m taking my plate back here if I have to see you make those puppy eyes at him each time you talk to him, it’s disgusting.”

 

Steve doesn’t pick up on the remark.

“Bucky already ate… Well, he has refused to touch Bruce’s cooking, but he made himself some oatmeal and milk.”

 

They step out of the lab and in the elevator, and Tony tries to appease the concern in Steve’s eyes.

 

“You can’t blame him for being a bit leery when it comes to trusting people.”

 

“It’s not about that, he only ate half of his plate when he was at SHIELD facility, but he didn’t refuse what was handed to him, there could have been poison in it for all he knew. Now he’s here, he refuses to eat anything he didn’t prepare himself. And it’s always bland food, oatmeal, protein shake, lean meat without condiments. I can see a pattern.”

 

“Uh, uh ?”

 

“I… I kind of did the same thing at first, when they defrosted me. I had trouble coping with this new world… knowing mine only existed in history books now. I couldn’t believe I was there, alive. I only ate to nourish my body; it was fuel, not food. I think that’s what he does. Fueling his body so it keeps working, but past that he doesn’t allow himself to enjoy things.”

 

This time the concern shifts in Tony’s eyes and Loki stays silent.

 

“Wow, I—Uh… I had no idea. You think he’s …? Okay. We should talk to him.”

 

 _We_. He didn’t even think before using the pronoun. It felt natural. He involved himself way past how much he thought he would, and he feels almost as responsible for the ex-assassin as Steve now, despite all his jokes about them too being too clingy to each other. What started as a way to make sure the wall between them stayed down after the night Steve kissed him became something very important to him, and he can’t ignore the way he worries about Bucky.

He opens his mouth to correct himself, but Steve doesn’t mention the pronoun and goes on before he can talk, nodding to himself.

 

“Yes. It’s important. He can’t keep denying himself as a human being.”

 

The elevator’s doors open before they can keep this conversation going and all three of them step out in one swift move and walk to the fourth floor’ sitting room in silence.

 

“Wow, who died ?” Ask Clint when they enter the room. Meeting a blank look from Steve and Tony he continues.

“ You look like Nat when I take down more people than her on missions. I guess my question should be who didn’t di—“

The red head next to him flicks him on the cheek to make him shut up without looking up from the book she’s reading.

 

Loki steps forward “Syracuse conjecture calculation went wrong. Stark almost blew up his lab for the _fifth time_ this month.”

 

Tony is surprised Loki is covering them (maybe caring about depressed gods months ago, when Loki was new to his nearly human state, was a good move after all) but jumps on the wagon, grinning. “Yeah, well, mojo messes with my head. Too fascinating to care about simple number sequences.”

 

Bruce steps out of the kitchen with his own plate and two extras, and sighs. “You should be more careful Tony.”

 

“Yeah, sure” the genius makes a dismissive hand move, “What’s this ? Massala Vada ? I love this stuff. Why are you a scientist, you should be cooking all the time.”

 

“Seconded.” Agrees Clint, who had returned to his task of finishing his huge mountain of food the faster he can.

“Third’d” smiles Natasha, taking bites between two pages of her book.

 

Bruce’s smile is fond and he modestly bows his head before walking to Tony to put his plate in his hand and ask quietly.

“Syracuse conjecture doesn’t have anything to do with time travel and can’t blow up entire labs; will you tell me what’s tormenting you and Steve? I don’t want things to deteriorate like last time.”

 

Tony hesitates for a second but nods and promises to explain Bucky’s problems to his friend later. After all Bruce helped him with his own trouble, maybe he can help the ex-assassin too.

 

He goes sitting down next to Thor who is trying to convince Loki to not go eating by himself, and watches Bruce bring his plate to Steve, sit on the couch, quietly talking with Bucky.

The man looks tired, and it’s not very surprising if he spent all his day sparring in one of the reinforced room of the Stark Tower like he often does. Therapists say it’s good to externalize any violence he has inside him, but Bucky pushes his body to its limits almost every day.

He watches him nod to whatever Steve is saying and smile, flipping his long hair out of his eyes. Steve claps a hand on his shoulder before starting to dig in his own plate.

 

Loki finally sits down next to Thor with a sigh and starts picking at his food while Tony looks at the fried lentils, onions, pepper and yellow rice in his plate, suddenly acknowledging he’s ravenous.

 

He (not so secretly anymore) loves these moments of calm between them, when the team meets for dinner or a movie or just because. The atmosphere is so serene it’s hard to believe it can be broken by a single phone call from the police or a random threatened organization in need of help to fight super villains. Even Loki seems to fit in now. No matter how weird it is to think that.

 

His eyes inevitably come back on the two men out of their time and he’s glad Bucky stays with them, even if he’s not eating. It’s progress. It’s hope.

Steve flashes a bright smile at him and Tony feels something he wasn’t even aware was here unlocking in his chest. Steve’s position matches Bucky’s, relaxed against the pillows, and he tentatively lift his fork to suggest him to take a bite. His best friend seems to think it over for few seconds, but then opens his mouth and accept it.

Steve eyes brighten impossibly, and Tony feels something clenching in him again. It’s not that he doesn’t like to see Steve happy, it’s not even that he’s jealous (he has made out with Captain America on the _floor_ , it’s way better than playing the food plane game), but Steve looks so out of reach in these moments. It throws him back in his place, makes him acknowledge whatever he feels for Steve is very unlikely to lead to anything; some things are too sacred to touch. Even he knows that.

 

But he feels content enough to be alive, with good Indian food and the team he thought he would never appreciate warming his heart by their very presence.

It’s good like that.

It’s enough.

 


	2. I'm not sure you understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Steve doesn't know how to relation ship and an old enemy comes back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so first I'm probably not going to be that long to upload the next chapter, I just had trouble with writing and motivation and finding a beta for this chapter (people have lives sadly, they do stuff other than worshipping the internet D: ).  
> Just fyi this is unbeta'ed, (and english is not my first langage, don't hesitate to tell me if you spot mistakes !) I asked a very talented friend of mine to do it and if she does I'll update it with the correction.
> 
> In the mean time if you like what I write and wish to help me, well I'm still looking for a regular beta who doesn't have a too busy life. :) Not that my previous beta wasn't wonderful, again thanks to her for the first chapter !
> 
> Also some part of it are inspired by Prisoner by SkyisGrey (who does wonderful fanfictions you should all read, I promise you WON'T regret it) http://archiveofourown.org/works/1815571 
> 
> (Also idk how to do summary.)

«  I’m disabled, not five years old Steve. »

 

“He’s right, he doesn’t need a babysitter, stop acting like a worried mother.”

 

“I’m not ! I am just trying to help-“

 

“Yeah well, I don’t need help to warm up yesterday’s left over. Frozen dinners were a thing back in time, you should remember that.”

 

Steve looks at them both, before giving up and going back to sit in the living room. When Tony pairs with Bucky he can’t win the argument. Plus they are right, he needs to stop treating his friend like a child, he improved greatly recently. And he’s willing to eat something normal for once, he probably shouldn’t push too far. He takes the remote control in his hand and flicks through channels just to have something to do with his hands and not go back to the kitchen to make sure everything is fine. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Bucky it’s just…

 

A hand settles gently on his own and the couch sinks at his side. He turns his head to see Natasha looking at him with a serious face.

 

“Stop clutching the zapper, you’re going to break it Cap.”

 

She waits until he loosen his grip before continuing.

 

“Relax, they are in the next room, defrosting food, not miles away risking their lives.” Her face is serious; she looks right into his eyes. “You have anxiety problems, people focus on Tony and his neuroses, and on James because of his issues with The Winter Soldier but –“

 

He puts back the remote back on the table in front of him and shakes his head, without letting her finish.

 

“I don’t need help Natasha; I must be the saner one here.”

 

“We all do. You really think people can fight aliens and monsters, and travel in time, or almost die multiple times and don’t have any psychological damage? Why do you think Fury schedules monthly psychological evaluations for all of us? We’re all screwed up in some way.”

 

“Well, you said it yourself, we have evaluations. SHIELD shrinks say I’m fine, so I’m fine.”

 

“No _we_ have monthly evaluations. _You_ , flashes your brightest smile to the psych ward secretary and make excuses, or find an innocent to rescue just in time to avoid to see them, or lie to their faces and use your “Captain America can’t go wrong in his head” card to get out faster. The thing is, you are allowed to not be okay. “

 

Her voice is firm but warm and he forces himself to relax the muscles in his tensed shoulders.

 

“I _am_ okay.”

 

“Not really. You are always worried about something or someone. You are always trying to live up to the poster boy image the medias spread of you. Tony and James in the kitchen? They may have way more problems than you but they know when to take a break. “

 

She pauses to let the words sink in.

 

“You are allowed to take a break too. It’s not being a bad person to think about you first and stop making sure everything is okay for a moment. You are allowed to not be perfect. The team likes Cap’, but we like Steve more. And Steve needs to rest.”

 

He looks at her and opens his mouth to protest, but closes it. She is right, and it would be stupid to disagree. He doesn’t like the idea of seeing doctors to make sure he is alright in his head. For one it’s insulting, he can’t help himself but think needing mental help is a bad thing, reminiscence of the forties.

He’s been convinced it wasn’t bad for other people a while ago (being immersed in a super heroes team with more issues than a teenager gang in the 21th century makes you prompt to relay on mental help very quickly, and he will never forget how not that long ago Clint slept with more than five kind of knives in his bed and how even Natasha wasn’t willing to wake him up in the middle of the night), but it’s still strange to think about it like a positive thing for him.

 

The second thing is : he is done with needing medical help. He spent all his life until his early twenties weak and relaying on too expensive medications and doctors. He hates everything related to health and the idea of depending once again of them to make sure he is good makes his blood boil.

He’s not the scrawny fragile little boy he was, he shouldn’t need medical attention. He doesn’t want medical attention.

But that’s not how things works, apparently.

 

“It’s not giving up on someone to take care of yourself, remember that. It’s not treason. It’s making sure you are solid enough to carry them. And you got a lot to carry with those idiots. “

 

Natasha smiles now, and Steve will never understand this woman. She looks like she sees through them all, all the time, and though he knows it’s not true he can’t help himself but believe it is. She doesn’t even have super powers, but sometimes it’s like she knows more than them. And maybe that’s what Russians and HYDRA do to you, because sometimes Bucky has the same look.

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

She picks up the remote and leans back into the black cushions.

 

“So what’s up with Stark ?”

 

He doesn’t even try to fake not understanding the question.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“He’s a moron.”

 

“… Yes. He is. “

 

She settles for a French movie and gives him a half smile.

 

“Careful with him, he breaks his toys without paying attention. “

 

Steve sighs and scratches his head. It’s nothing new to him.

 

“I know. But… It’s all on me. I mean I started it. I…hum. I knew what to expect. And to his credit I have to say he’s even more nervous than me about it.”

 

“What’s “it” ?” She asks casually, looking at a girl daring his friend to do take stupid bet on the screen, but he can tell she’s interested.

 

“A kiss.”

 

She raises her right eyebrow, visibly disappointed.

 

“That’s all ?”

 

“I’m an old fashioned guy. I don’t want to… rush it. Especially if it’s not going to last. I know him. _You_ know him. He’s not exactly the best about long term relationships or… commitment in general. I don’t want something transient, I’m not even sure I should have kissed him in the first place, not if it’s not going to lead to anything.” He hesitates for a second before adding. “I talked a little to Pepper about this. She thinks the same.”

 

She doesn’t deny it. Everyone knows Tony’s preferences when it comes to relationships are no relationship at all.

They watch the girl and the boy on the screen having a serious conversation under the rain and he pretend being interested when they both jump in a big stream of water to escape their responsibilities, but he is trying to hear what’s happening in the kitchen.

 

Steve can make all the promises he wants, he won’t change in a matter of minutes.

 

Luckily, Tony and Bucky emerge from the kitchen a few minutes later, without plates, just a tupperware and a fork dug in it.

 

Bucky looks very proud of him, and Steve can’t help himself but smile. It’s not surprising that his friend gets a kick of preparing his meal alone when he was commanded to do even the most basic things for so long.

 

“Our friend here understood the microwave functions way faster than you Rogers. 1-0 for grandpa two.” Mocks Tony behind him before greeting the red head. “Hey Nat’. Where’s Clint ?”

 

“Mission.” She answers shortly, not even bothering looking at him. “Serbians dealers, something about organs. He said he could handle it alone. Coulson agreed.” Steve can say she’s not okay with this but accepts it still, and if Natasha can do it he surely can put more effort into letting go.

 

She waves at Bucky and he waves back, making the magnetic post-its on his arm flutter. It’s another habit of them. When Bucky started to live with them the notes on his walls took place on his metal arm. They also took only red and blue shades, because Tony was that kind of person, and they were way less numerous than back in days when Bucky was still imprisoned at SHIELD facility. It’s not clear if he really needs them or if it is just because of the habit, but there is a red “Tech is awesome” paper, a blue one with a doodle of a kitten and another one with “birds before ho-“, the last word scribbled over with the same red ink the kitten is drawn in. (Clint lost the right to write on Bucky’s arm after that.)

More a habit than anything, all things considered.

 

Steve notices the hand Tony has put on the back of Bucky, just before he removes it to slump on the sofa with the rest of them, and smiles fondly. He doesn’t know where they go with this, he doesn’t even know if anyone but him is aware of the situation, Tony doesn’t seem to acknowledge it and Bucky… Well Bucky has the excuse to have a crumbled mind and to be on the hard path of recovery.

 

“Any boring task today ? Can we change the movie ? This is terrible.” Whines the genius.

 

“No.” Answers flatly Natasha.

 

“We have a meeting scheduled with the head of what’s left of SHIELD around five, but until then not really.” Informs Steve.

 

“Yeah, JARVIS notified me about this earlier. I need to create a functional prototype of a holographic self; I can’t keep wasting time in boring SHIELD meeting. How do we even have “meetings” they’re not done rebuilding their quarters yet. ” Groans Tony, vainly trying to reach for the remote that Natasha keeps out of his reach.

 

Bucky is still standing next to the couch, awkwardly looking at the television, his Tupperware tightly clutched in his hands. Steve finds an excuse to call his name and pat the right side of the cushions next to him.

 

“Come here, I need to show you something Tony’s crazy tech is good for.”

 

Bucky shifts and immediately gets around the sofa to join him, something like relief in his eyes. He is way better than before, but sometimes he needs orders to do things, take decisions. Especially just after he did things on his own, even as little as warming food in a microwave. This will surely fade with time and disappear after a moment, but the reminiscence of the Winter Soldier is still there for now, preventing him to be really independent. And it’s okay, because Steve is here for him and, hey, it’s great he can already do things alone.

 

He grabs the remote and Natasha lets him _and_ Tony doesn’t whine about it being unfair. Steve may often complain about the team, mostly out of habit, but he loves them for taking his friend’s recovery as seriously as he does. They had no obligation to welcome The Winter Soldier, and he remembers his own reaction when it came to letting Loki come live with them.

At least Bucky can’t be held responsible for his acts.

 

Sometimes it strikes him that Tony doesn’t know Bucky killed his parents, and his heart sinks in his chest, because he’s not sure how he would react if he did. Or maybe he does, being the sneaky and clever man he is, maybe he does and he found a way to cope, to understand, in silence because Tony is not fond of emotional effusions. Maybe he is even better than what Steve thought.

Or maybe he drank a lot and shot at things until he felt okay-ish… That sounds more like him.

 

He pushes the “zero” button to display all the channels in little squares on the screen, as Bucky sits down on the edge of the leather cushion.

 

“So, basically, you can access everything with these panels. You can see all the channels in real time, and choose from there.”

 

“It’s not _my crazy tech_ grandpa, it’s common. Are you really that ignorant? Sometimes I think you make fun of us.”

 

And yeah, most of the time Steve makes fun of them by pretending not understanding his surrounding, but he’s not going to take away Bucky’s distraction from the remains of the program in his head.

So he ignores Tony and hands the remote to his friend.

 

“Here choose something.”

 

He watches Bucky puts his food on the table to take the controller and flicker through the endless pages of channels, muttering a little “who needs a fuckton of channels, this is crazy” under his breath, his eyes a little wider than normal.

 

“Anything but a French movie, please, nobody likes French movies. ” Prays Tony to no one in particular.

 

“I do.” States Natasha, but Bucky settles on a teleshopping channel (and Tony has this very particular smile he does when he thinks no one looks at him) and frowns watching a 30-ish woman present a whole vacuums cleaner variety range. Natasha smiles too, small and almost invisible but there. Bucky leans in a little toward the tv, failing to grasp the concept, his hair falling on his eyes.

 

Steve raises a hand, before thinking about it. Bucky jumps easily nowadays and he doesn’t want to trigger a bad reaction. Plus he read a little about ptsd and traumatisms, and unwanted touch is not exactly a good move.

He clears his throat, his hand still in the air, aware of Tony’s gaze on him from the other side of the couch.

 

“Can I—“

 

But Bucky cuts him flat.

 

“I’m not gonna break because you touches me punk.” He doesn’t even look at him, keeping his tone is easy.

 

“Your hair, I thought—“

 

“Go for it, I don’t mind.”

 

He proffers him his left wrist where hangs a grey rubber elastic, but when Steve slips it out of his hand and lifts his long hair he tenses. Steve stays silent, tying them as fast as he can, and his ponytail is still less messy than Bucky’s usual ones. Probably because his hands doesn’t shake, but Bucky’s often do.

 

“You don’t need to… You could have said no. I wouldn’t mind. I know it’s not the same, I know you’re not…”

 

“I’m not what ?”

 

This time Bucky turned to him, his face darker than few seconds ago and Steve sometimes feels lightheaded with how fast his mood can change now. It’s a fake question and he knows it, there is no right way to answer it. He purses his lips slightly, frustrated, he doesn’t like it when his friend rises walls between them without reason.

And why does he only likes people like this ? Because Tony is very good at putting walls around him too.

 

“You _know_ what I mean Buck’. You’re not same person as you were before and I don’t expect you to be. If you don’t want something you can say it, I don’t mind. You don’t have to fake being okay.”

 

“Says Captain America.” Mocks Natasha, turning toward them.

 

Steve swallows the “not helping” on the tips of his tongue to ignore her, locking eyes with Bucky instead. He wants him to understand it’s not an attack but Steve caring and he doesn’t want his friend to flee from this.

 

“And you’re deducing all of that because I didn’t tie my hair?” Bucky’s tone has an edge of anger, and this is escalating too quickly in the exact direction Steve doesn’t want it to go.

 

He raises his hands in an appeasing move.

 

“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words. It’s just—“

 

But Bucky already made his mind. He wants the fight, probably because he can’t handle his own fragility and oh, that sounds so familiar to Steve it’s almost funny. Past him would do that so very often.

 

“Oh yeah, because you know so much better than me. _I_ couldn’t know, right ? Poor little bonkers Bucky, who can’t even bear a normal touch. I can’t be the same man than before, I’m too broken to even make myself something to eat, how could I possibly handle _big stuff_ like this ? Well big news, _I’m not_.”

 

Steve opens his mouth to answer, desperate not to start the fight, but Tony speaks before him, keeping his tone light probably to mask his worry.

 

“Hey if the hair is the problem, you could just cut them. You had short hair before, right ? I saw pictures.”

 

Bucky’s jaw works for a second before he stands up, settling the -now slightly deformed- remote on the table with more force than necessary.

 

“You know what ? Fuck you. Both of you. I’m not cutting my hair. SHIELD therapists say I’m fine, I have nothing to prove. ”

 

His voice has this trembling edge of anger and frustration it always had when he was mad at Steve, and yeah, this is the Bucky from 1940. It makes something ache in his chest and he gets up too when the man starts walking toward the stairs to exit the room.

 

“Bucky it’s not—“

 

“Don’t you dare following me. I’m not responsible for my acts, I could attack you, or I don’t know have a fucking crisis because you _touched_ me.”

 

Steve can’ t help himself but take another step toward him, the idea of letting things confused between them unbearable to him, even if he knows Bucky started this knowing what his real intentions were.

But Natasha puts a hand on his wrist and shakes her head.

So he stays, watching his friend disappear, as Tony pinches the bridge of his nose on the other end of the sofa.

 

He sits back, frustration letting place to a blank in his mind. He still doesn’t know how to handle Bucky and that’s a scary thought.

He looks at the food on the table Bucky didn’t eat, think about bringing it to his room before he decides against it. It would be a bad move to forces his friend to see him.

 

“I don’t get him.” He breathes, disappointed. “I want to help but… He doesn’t let me.”

 

“You know how you sound, now.”

 

He turns a reproachful look to Natasha but she holds his gaze, before adding.

 

“James needs time. You need to be patient. You can’t do much; you already help him as much you can every day.”

 

She is probably right.

Tony is strangely silent, and Steve wishes he would chat and gratify them of his endless stream of words but he only stares blankly at the television.

Natasha tries to soothe him again.

 

“It’s not your fault Steve. Letting things go, remember? You can’t care for everyone and make everything okay all th…”

 

This is all she can say before things explode around them.

 

He stoops by reflexes when he feels the first shockwave, and his arm reaches for Natasha but she’s already diving in and rolling under the table. The larges windows fall apart in thousand flying pieces of glass and he hears Tony yelps as he fails to cover himself in time. Momentarily confused, Steve tries to use his senses to understand what the hell just happened, but all he can hear is the sudden loud sound of a helicopter rotor blades and his sight is limited by the couch protecting him. The television in front of them explodes too a second later, a bullet flying next to Steve ear right in the middle of the screen and he tucks in more. Instinctively he reaches for his shield, but remembers he let it in his room, two floors higher, and swears under his breath.

 

He briefly glances at Tony to make sure the genius is not too badly cut, before he slips his hand in Natasha’s pocket to grab a gun. She doesn’t even bat an eye, just reaches for her other pocket.

He is suddenly glad Bucky stormed out of the room into his own, because private quarters are soundproofed. He doesn’t want him to be involved in any kind of fight, not now, not when he’s still so fragile. Not when The Winter Soldier shadow still hover in his eyes despite his lack of violence.

 

“ I’m so glad we can meet again.”

 

The cheerful voice rising behind the couch is familiar and he immediately puts a face on the fake humorous tone hiding a cold and dead want to hurt. He had the exact same the day he electrocuted Steve in the elevator.

Except Sam and the medics assured them he was dead, and how could one possibly survive the collision with a helicarrier?

Steve silently pushes a discreet button on the watch on his wrist and notices Tony is doing the same.

Clint is on a mission and Bruce probably at the far end of the city, but Sam and Coulson will receive their signal, and if they are lucky (more or less officials) agents will arrive in time to back them up.

 

He slowly rises on his feet to face Rumlow, and yes, he is back from the dead apparently. And bold enough to enter the Avengers tower without back up himself, because he stands alone in front of the ruined windows, the helicopter in stationary position in the sky behind him.

 

Steve internally winces when he looks at him because if he survived, he didn’t get out of it without damages. He has a big scar on the right cheek and another smaller one above the arch of his eyebrow. The skin of his neck and forearm is scribbled with white spots, witnesses of burns too serious to heal fast enough, and some find their places on his face. His hairs are longer, ending just behind his ears and he has grown more bulk, but strangely his cheeks looks more sullen than before.

He locks eyes with Steve and the deep shadows under it make it looks like he didn’t sleep since he was left for dead. And maybe he didn’t if Steve believes the craziness in his eyes, now flashing with the fierce joy he feels.

 

“You’re dead.”

 

It’s Tony’s startled voice behind him.

 

“I checked on you, JARVIS checked on you, after they told me what happened. You’re dead and there is a copy of your autopsy report in my servers.”

 

Rumlow tilts his head a little without stopping looking at Steve before answering with a surprising calm that doesn’t reflect in his eyes.

 

“Looks like I even tricked Iron-man’s tech. I would mock you but it doesn’t matter since _you_ will die. All of you that joined Steve Rogers.”

 

He spits his name like it’s something disgusting, but his smiles grows wider.

 

“I have waited this moment since your friend left me to die in SHIELD quarters, I have _dreamed_ of this Steve. You think you had bad times before? It’s nothing compared to what I’ll…”

 

He can’t finish his sentence, a red flashes jumping at his throat and knocking him at the head with her gun. He staggers back, but doesn’t fall and blocks her next blow, sweeping her legs with his own and almost managing to make her fall. Tony yells a number sequence at JARVIS and Steve leaps forward to help Natasha.

Rumlow doesn’t let go of her, twisting his wrist to make her turn around, taking advantage of her lack of balance for a second and ducking to avoid Steve’s fist, throwing her body at him to make him step back. He’s faster, stronger and Steve starts to see how much of a problem he will be.

 

Natasha, still in his arms, fires her gun three times at their enemy but he’s already moving and manages to avoid every bullet. Steve moves as soon as she’s on her feet again, trying to breach into Rumlow’s personal space but he block every moves there too, and _how can he be that strong_ ? He backs away as Rumlow leaps in the air, spinning his body around in a swift motion, his feet catching Steve’s chin at the last second, and the super soldier is thrown back on the couch with the violence of the move.

Tony swears next to him, urging JARVIS to move Mark XVL faster and how much time can his armors take to come to him when they are literally a floor under them ? Natasha is trying to break their adversary’s defense again, her moves too fast for the eyes, delivering blows after blows, dancing with all her body, kicking with her feet and striking with her knees, and for the first time Rumlow seems to struggle to block everything and take a few steps back. But he ducks again second later, turning around to catch her arm in a merciless lock under her back and puts pressure on it until she screams and a disgusting sound of breaking bones is heard. It’s the moment Mark XVL chooses to literally burst through the thick stone floor heading to Tony and it’s the moment Steve throws himself at Rumlow again to make him drop the spy. None of it happens, Mark XVL colliding with the super soldier at full speed, both of them being thrown at opposite ends of the room, making the floor creaks and shatters under the violence. He thinks he going to fall for a second, but the stone floor holds on. His vision flickers and if the feet kick was just enough to hurt him, this time his whole body feels the pain. He blinks and try to stand again as Tony yells an angry “come on !” at the disaster, but he’s a little wobbly on his feet.

 

“Control your tech Stark !” He grunts at Tony, wiping his nose bleeding from the shock.

 

“I didn’t expect a stupid super soldier to fly right in front of it!” Comes the sharp answer, and then in the same breath.” You okay there Steve?”

 

Tony keeps his eyes on Rumlow who is sporting a wicked smile and now makes a move toward him.

 

“Yeah, go find something to protect you, you’re useless without your armors and I don’t want you to be killed. ” Dryly answer Steve, still trying to stop seeing the world through a kaleidoscope.

 

When he manages it a second later, Tony is carefully taking a step back for every step their enemy takes forward.

 

“It’s not exactly like I had much choice, I don’t have any secret hi—“

 

But Rumlow suddenly leaps forward and grips his throat, exulting, preventing him to finish his sentence. He squeezes and spits without looking at the blonde.

 

“You destroyed my life, Steve. I’m going to destroy yours, it’s only fair.”

 

The super soldier is moving before his brain can register it, a loud alarm screaming Tony’s name going off in his head, but Natasha is on Rumlow again before he can reach him. Tony coughs when he’s released, and totters on his feet, but the diversion last for few seconds only. Natasha lacking grip on the man because of her broken arm is thrown on the floor again.

Still it gives Steve enough time to reach him and make him back away with a few well-placed blows.

 

The world separates briefly in two again and he blinks, the shock must have been more serious than what he thought. But he can still fight. It’s nothing compared to what the war, human or alien, can do to a man.

He has troubles to register every move and blocking them, and after a minute of a level fight, his adversary manages to hit the soft skin behind his knees, land a fist on his head and lock his arms behind his back.

 

Steve sees stars and grunts, finding his muscles surprisingly weak.

 

“HYDRA is down because of you,” Whispers Rumlow in his ears, and he twists his arms higher, making him clench his teeth. “My _life_ is down because of you, I am going to take my revenge. I want this since so long, Steve.”

 

He can feels him smiling against his ear and he shudders between pain and something that feels like fear.

 

“This is so sweet having you defenseless, I can do anything I want and you can’t. Stop. Me. Do you know how good it feels, Steve? How pleasing is the idea of killing you, of first, doing whatever I wan—“

 

A shadow passes at his peripheral vision and suddenly he’s free again, Rumlow groaning in pain far behind him.

 

He hears Tony shouting “No magic my ass !” before everything goes green and the floor literally shatters under his feet.

 

The fall makes his stomach curls, and he hits something metallic with a rare violence. He sees Natasha bouncing off the floor of the work shop at the corner of his eyes and tries to get on his feet but his muscles barely jerk.

 

He doesn’t have time to be annoyed by the lack of response of his body or to really feel the pain.

A second later, everything goes black.

 

 

Tony almost makes a snarky comment when Loki finally steps out of wherever he was _not helping_ to knock Rumlow down. The move is so quick he barely registers his presence in the room before the ex-HYDRA agent flies across the room.

The genius takes a deep inspiration, remembering how to breathe now that no one is menacing a surprisingly weak Steve in front of him, and decides to go with the snarky comment after all. Everyone handle stressful situations like they can.

 

“’Could have used your help sooner.”

 

“Shut up, Stark.” Comes the sharp answer of Loki and oh- right. Magic. That explains the late entrance and the focused look on the face of the ex-god.

 

Rumlow is already on his feet, but whatever he was doing before he came prepared Loki enough so he could act fast. He puts his hands on the floor and the air crackles with energy, green swirls whirling weakly around his fingers before suddenly filling the whole room. He scolds under an invisible effort and doesn’t make a move when Rumlow charges him. He doesn’t need to.

A second later the entire first floor is crackling and breaking down under their feet. _That’s a bad idea_ is all Tony has time to think before he’s freely falling down, yelling something about how Loki isn’t supposed to have that much magic left.

 

He braces himself for the shock, but something wraps around him and the shock with the concrete floor is not as awful as he expected.

Loki is already up when he opens his eyes but Tony thanks him with a grunt for the protection.

 

“I am only paying my debts, don’t fool yourself.” Pants the god in answer.

 

Obviously using that level of magic wasn’t in the book’s rules, Loki looks exhausted when a few seconds ago he was alright.

 

A quick glance around shows him Natasha and Steve both unconscious, the first boneless on the floor and the second having crashed on the the unfinished time machine’s panel.

He clenches his teeth, regretting that Rumlow is also lying on the concrete, body still, and not up and ready to fight.

 

“ Check on her.” Tony’s voice is colder than usual and Loki gives him a dry look but slowly walks to Natasha and crouch over her.

 

The genius is on Steve in five steps and barely glances at the damaged time machine above them, checking both his neck and wrists where his pulse is weak but beating. He frowns, sticking out a tiny needle out of the back of his neck.

Drug. That’s why Steve was so weak. Probably injected when the TV exploded, the shot in the screen only acting as a diversion.

He swears under his breath because he doesn’t know what was in this needle, and this guy, Rumlow, wanted Steve dead.

He feels his heart flutter with anxiety and has to remind himself that a panic attack won’t help. He needs to stay calm.

Breathing hard through his nose, he takes Steve’s head between his hands and calls his name once. Then again, louder, but nothing happen.

Not yielding to panic, he tries to focus on the important things. Priorities. He needs to secure Rumlow somewhere safe where he won’t be able to harm anyone once awake, and he needs to find what’s contaminating Steve’s blood at this very moment.

 

“JARVIS, check the vitals.” He snaps.

 

“ _Yes, Sir.”_ Answers the A.I with his usual calm, and Tony wants to scream. “ _Captain Rogers’s life is not endangered at the moment, but he has entered an unconscious state because of what I believe is a morphine by-product. Scans running to determine wha_ -“

 

“ Behind you !” Suddenly barks Loki, covering the robotic voice, and Tony has barely enough time to turn and avoid two sharp daggers jabbing the panel next to his head. Great. More damages on his project.

 

Rumlow groggily stands on his feet again, and will this man ever be down for more than a few seconds?

Tony feels anger heating low in his guts. Actually it’s a good thing that the other man is conscious again. Because Natasha lies in a corner of the room with a broken arm and blood on her forehead. Because Steve still doesn’t wake up and his breathing is uneven. Because you can only attack people Tony Stark cares about so much before you get your ass seriously kicked.

He won’t even need his suits to make Rumlow regret ever crawling out of whatever dark hole he was hiding in until now.

 

Loki’s face is pale and he says something but Tony doesn’t hear him. The air vibrates around him and he tries to move but his body feels like it’s made of stone. A warning bip comes from his right and he looks at the corner of his eyes to see the panels has gone crazy with number sequences and that sparkles spring from the naked wires.

Something lurches in his stomach as his eyes widen and he tries to reach for the panel with all his strength, but his body doesn’t answer.

He’s so screwed if the time machine turns on completely. _Steve_ is so screwed. The prototype is far from finished, they will both be torn apart in a bloody mess of discarded flesh somewhere in the universe and that’s not how he planned his life to end.

Loki’s lips still move, he’s tracing signs in the air with the face of someone about to pass out and the world becomes blurry. A shadow hover over Loki’s form and Tony thinks Rumlow must have hit him.

 

His vision goes blank and his head feels funny, like someone is pulling his brain up while all his body sinks into the floor. The fear has barely enough time to reach his mind before he loses the sensation of Steve’s head beneath his fingers.

 

The last thing he registers is his blood turning into ice and a shade of green behind his eyes.

 

Then everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, Eegie, you asked for Rumlow, here he iiiis !  
> Sorry if he's OOC (I FEEL like he is, but again I'm on my own on this and I don't know how to rectify it ;__;) I wanted to show his crazyness and his particular obsession with Steve. I hope you enjoyed this !
> 
> Comments are greatly appreciated, they are the writer's vital essence. I'm not exagerating. Noooope, not at all. 
> 
> Thanks you to all of you who already left kudos ! <3 (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it despite the lack of susbstantial thing in it dear.  
> I'll post chapter two today too since he's already written and just need to be checked by my beloved beta reader. Expect Steve POV this time, fighting and cool stuff. :D 
> 
> Alright I'm going to back to finishing my supeeer late Stucky BookClub prompt now.
> 
> Edit :  
> Chapter two is late but now that I have a native english speaker as a beta reader it should be quicker ! Expect it in a few days :)


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